


A Quiet Interrogation

by anoccasionalcigarette



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Eavesdropping, I guess the rest of the team is here too but they're all snoozin', M/M, emily puts two and two together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 16:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoccasionalcigarette/pseuds/anoccasionalcigarette
Summary: Just some observations on a late night trip back to Quantico.





	A Quiet Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> This just kind of wrote it self. Also I am the opposite of Reid, in that I am a dumb idiot who doesn't know anything about anything, so writing dialogue for him is pretty hard... Oh well, enjoy.

Reid was ranting about something, but there was something different about it.

The team was on their way home after a very long and only mildly successful two weeks. While they eventually caught the unsub the amount of bodies he had accumulated left little spirit for celebration. On top of that, their case was too close to warrant taking the jet so instead they all piled into a Suburban. Morgan and Prentiss were in the middle seats. Emily was looking out the window fighting sleep while Morgan gave in easily, his head tossed back, mouth open, and headphones threatening to fall off the back of his head. JJ was sprawled across the seats in the very back and you wouldn’t know she was there aside from a delicate snore every once in a while. Reid was sitting up front with Hotch, and that’s only because Rossi hadn’t come on this case. 

Whenever they had a full team and one car Reid was often the one sitting in the way back or the middle. Now he was spread out, enjoying his opportunity to sit shotgun. He had yelled it shortly after the team had decided to drive back instead of staying at the hotel for another night. It was late, but they all agreed it would be worth it to wake up in their own homes for the weekend. Hotch, no doubt eager to be there for Jack in the morning, had offered to drive. Watching Reid get into the passenger seat, Morgan had laughed and elbowed Hotch. _“Good luck with that man, you wanna borrow my headphones?”_ Hotch had glared at him, which wasn’t overtly noticeable given how grumpy he looked already. But Prentiss noticed. She made a note of it and decided against trying to get him to stop for snacks on the way home.

But he didn’t look like that now, she observed. He was leaning back in his seat, one hand draped over the wheel while the other rested on the middle console. He seemed relaxed and at peace on the road with Reid as his radio. Reid voice was hushed but as fast as it usually was, his hands waving along with each sentence. Emily paused her music and took out her earbuds but kept her head against the window. 

“-but there’s no way of defining an exact failure or success rate because it’s only been tested in areas that don’t have a way of controlling extraneous factors that might affect the outcome. Only 32% of students tested-“

It was a pretty typical Reid rant. Having caught the middle of it she didn’t know what it was about but Hotch seemed to. He murmured in agreement and would look over now and then. Emily was surprised to see him so composed. It had been a hard case. Maybe the drive was helping him unwind. It was dark now and there weren’t any other cars on the road. They peacefully cut through the night, quietly cruising along save the cadence of Reid’s thoughts. 

“-but regardless it’s impossible to ignore the potential benefits even if there’s no quantifiable outcome.” finished Reid, plunging the car back into almost silence. Just the rhythmic hum of tires against pavement.

“When did you study so much about educational philosophy?” Hotch asked.

That surprised Emily. Usually when Reid stopped talking it was met with a sigh of relief - a well awaited exit to a very long and technical conversation. It worried her to think like that. Reid was a friend, and long-winded facts were just part of the package. Though that didn’t stop Morgan from getting up and walking away mid-sentence sometimes and Rossi was never shy about telling the kid to find a new audience. Even JJ’s patience would run out if he managed to turn a round of drinks into a lecture circuit. 

But here Reid had been talking the entire car ride and Hotch didn’t seem any bothered. Quite the opposite, he seemed to be spurring him on.

“When did you take that class? I can’t see it being on the curriculum for any of your degrees.”

Again, Emily was taken back by how much Hotch was offering to the conversation. But should it surprise her? She had noticed they’d been spending more time together. A few months ago, Reid had moved and he and Hotch had started carpooling. Occasionally they would eat lunch together in his office. When they all went out for drinks they were more likely to be huddled together by the bar than dancing with Morgan and the girls. Perhaps Hotch had just gotten used to listening to Reid.

“Because the syllabus for the class had a lot of books that I had been meaning to read.”

“Why were you reading the syllabus if you weren’t in that class yet?”

“I read the syllabi for all the classes they offered each year.” Reid responded in a pointed tone.

Hotch laughed. It was restrained within the hush of the car, but his smile was unhindered. Emily couldn’t help staring. Despite what people said Hotch did smile, but rarely so freely. He rolled his head over to look at Reid and she closed her eyes, fearful, almost like she witnessed something she shouldn’t have.

“What?” she could hear the smile in Reid’s voice. He wasn’t defensive because Hotch wasn’t laughing at him. “Are you laughing at how thorough and prepared I am?” 

“I would never.”

“My mom used to tell me that the only reason you should ever judge a book by it’s cover was if it had a well broken in spine, because that meant someone thought it was worth reading over and over again. One of her books that was the most worn down was a collection of essays on lecture strategy. So when I was at CalTech and saw that several of those essays were on the syllabus along with further reading material from the authors it seemed like a no brainer.”

“That makes sense, especially since your mother was an educator. Did she have any preference to what classes you took?”

“Not particularly, unless you count her own class which I took by proxy more times that I can count, on just about every book published in the 15th century.”

“No wonder you didn’t need to take any English courses.”

“Who said I never took any English courses?” 

“I’m sorry, I forgot how valuable they would have been to your chemistry degree. Or were they for your math doctorate?” Hotch teased. Emily wasn’t sure if she had actually fallen asleep in the car and was imagining this whole conversation. Hotch had a joke quota of two, maybe three per year and he was using them all in this one conversation.

“And I suppose you just took whatever classes they told you too until they gave you a law degree?” 

“You got me.”

“It’s important to be critical of your curriculum as a student. Beyond just picking classes that fulfill degree requirements the classes you take can have a lasting impact on your learning structure into adulthood, which is why reconceptualists argue that interdisciplinary study is crucial to expanding a student’s societal and political perspective. There are a lot of theories about the best pedagogy methods across disciplines but regardless they are all ruled by existing social engineering and educational politics.” 

“What theories do you consider most valid?” 

Reid drove headfirst into a lengthy answer, during which Hotch stared at him for long enough that Emily began to think perhaps he should be looking at the road. But even if he had veered off there was no other cars around to run into. It felt as if the two men (and their curious eavesdropper) were just floating through the dark completely alone, belonging to no destination or route. Every now and then a street light would illuminate them just for a brief moment. Just a flash, enough to reveal a small smile or a raised eyebrow. Emily shrunk down in her seat a bit, as if she was scared she’d be discovered. Something about the conversation seemed so sacred, even though the subject was purely academic.

“-then again since every child learns differently it isn’t likely that a universal answer is the right answer.” Reid finished.

“What methods did you like best growing up?” Hotch asked. His eyes were back on the road but reluctantly. He still glanced over as he asked. Emily swore she saw his right hand move slightly, as if to reach across to the younger agent – but she had to have imagined it, that'd be ridiculous. His hand remained in the middle. Spencer’s arm was now lying next to his across the console, his fingers gently circling the cupholder.

“I don’t think it would surprise anyone that I’ve always been a logical learner, but I prefer verbal stimulation when available. Even though it was faster to read I like hearing things out loud. Although that may be just because of the sentiment behind it, I mean, you know my mom.” said Reid. He said it so matter-of-factly, which struck Emily as odd. None of the team knew much about Reid’s mother beyond what came up relating to work. Yet Hotch hummed in agreement, as if he’d known her all his life.

“I should do that more.” Hotch said quietly. Reid’s hand stalled on the cupholder. 

The conversation had crossed a threshold that was clearly only open because everyone was supposedly asleep. Emily willed her eyes closed but couldn’t make herself put her headphones back in. She wondered how a conversation about philosophy and educational techniques could suddenly become so intimate. And it was strange to her how casual and freely Spencer was talking. He could rattle incessantly about statistics or sci-fi lore, but he never really said anything. He didn’t offer any personal details or his opinion when he rambled to the rest of the team. It always felt like he was just a walking book, reading verbatim what some scholar or writer had already said. Here with Hotch he was laughing and making jokes and offering personal insight (while still quoting philosophers and statistics of course, but it wouldn’t be Reid without that.) 

Maybe it was Hotch’s questioning. A past history of interrogations and legal exchanges that was somehow quietly driving the conversation. Or was it even that complicated? Maybe he wasn’t using tactics to draw Reid out, maybe it was just that he was asking questions at all. The rest of the team certainty didn’t inquire like this when Reid would get going. Emily racked her brain trying to remember times she had asked Reid about something that wasn’t a statistic or a topic relevant to a case and was disappointed when she couldn’t come up with anything. At work they bothered him for helpful statistics but then cut him off when the conversation lasted longer than it was helpful. 

But here in the car, seemingly alone, the conversation wasn’t too long or draining. Hotch had listened to Reid list almost the entirety of the curriculum to one of his classes without any trouble and then asked him to elaborate. Except, she noticed, each question he asked had to do with his feelings about it, his personal opinions. He asked Reid what he thought and Reid told him. Simple as that. The conversation morphed itself from a lecture into a genuine back and forth and all it took was Hotch asking him how he felt. Emily swallowed back some guilt and vowed to take Reid out sometime soon. She could do better.

“You read to Jack every chance you get. He’s more of a visual learner anyway, and he’s well stimulated. Typically children in his age bracket-“ Reid started.

“No, to you I mean.” Hotch said, looking over. A streetlight briefly illuminated his face as if catching him in the act. His face was so serene he looked alien to Emily, she had never seen him look so softly at anything. 

This time Reid’s hand reached over and Emily knew didn’t imagine it. It took every ounce of willpower for her to focus on looking out the window and not audibly gasping. Hotch and Reid settled into silence holding hands, leaving Emily's mind racing with a litany of questions. She was definitely going to have to spend some time with Reid now and wondered how many questions (or drinks) it was going to take to get him talking about _that_.


End file.
